


Do What You Do

by PFDiva



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:02:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha Rose remembers everything about Sburb up to the point that Rose entered the Alpha session, and she goes looking for everyone in her new life.  She finds Dave first, because his name's still the same, and shows her affection for his webcomic by critiquing its more problematic aspects while posting CotL on her blog as a webstory, one chapter at a time.  At an interview about her newly-published book, Dave finally gets to meet the woman behind the words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do What You Do

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://dareedseee.tumblr.com/post/45625651483/fixed-some-things-i-hadnt-noticed-before-i-still#notes) jawdropping piece.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are officially a movie director.

Your movie has come out in theaters, people watched it (A surprisingly large number of people, actually) and you have been solicited for interview after interview after interview.

But you have never been so nervous as you are today.

Rose Lalonde is going to be interviewed right before you. 

That means that you'll have to sit next to her, pretend she isn't right behind you while you needle David Letterman, because he's a pretentious ass.

You don't know Rose Lalonde.

Not offline.

But you have followed her career ever since you got the first scathing review from a "tenebrousTypist."

Something about it, like the comedy stylings of John Crocker, and the creative escapades of Jade English, twanged something deep inside you, caught your attention, and refused to let you ignore her.

Especially since she wasn't ignoring you.

It wasn't like she disliked SBaHJ.

In fact, she complimented the comic frequently.

Right before detailing how it was sexist, ableist, and pretty racist, too.

She got shouted down by some of your stupider fans, but the repetitious comments inspired you to change your work.

Of course you just made it worse.

But she seemed to love it?

Appeared to love leaving you scathing messages in your inbox?

And more than that, so did you.

You usually just ignore commenters like her.

Laugh them off.

Blow them off.

Ban them.

But you couldn't bring yourself to do that with her.

She made you smile, even though you objectively knew she was bitching you out.

You almost felt like she was doing it just to remind you that she was there.

It gave you a strange sense of deja vu and security.

And now you're going to meet her in person.

She is a fearsome woman, and you're a little afraid to find out what she thinks of you in person.

She's not famous.

Yet.

But her book is getting a little flak from the right-wingers, which always makes for good sales.

It's a good book.

Dense as hell.

A little slow in some places.

But definitely good.

You adjust the cuffs of your shirt as you enter the studio, ignoring the flurry of anxious background people who make interviews happen, because you are debilitatingly late, and intentionally so.

You didn't want to run the chance of seeing her off-camera.

Not yet.

They powder your nose, careful not to stain your white vest, and your are hustled onto the stage amid applause and the noise of commercials running.

She's standing when you come on-stage and holyshit, that feeling of deja vu is way more powerful in person than you ever expected.

Your lift your chin in greeting, and she smirks, taking her seat.

Somehow, you feel like she knows.

You feel like she knows everything, and you don't like it.

You shake Letterman's hand, take your seat, and banter.

When Letterman solicits Rose's opinion about your "sharp tongue," she laughs softly.

"I dunno, it seems like he's taking it pretty easy on you.  He's almost polite."

And it feels like something she's always said, even though you've never directly conversed with one another and this is the first time you've met in person.

"Clearly I have taken leave of my senses if SHE thinks I'm being polite.  What is a man to do?"

"Run."

Her suggestion sends chills up your spine, and not in the bad way where you're a little afraid she'll leave the heads of furry little animals on your doorstep.

Not at all.

You knew you'd like her.

You didn't expect you'd like her this MUCH.

The rest of the interview goes smoothly, but you can't shake the feeling that she's peeling the flesh from your bones with her eyes.

It's a surprisingly enjoyable impression.

When you're all done, you stride from the stage, pointedly ignoring her, just knowing that you won't get out the door without talking to her.

She doesn't disappoint you.

"Mr. Strider?"

That feels wrong, but you aren't sure why.

You pivot on your heel in a practiced motion to look at her.

"Yes, Miss Lalonde?"

She hands you a familiar print from one of your comic's panels.

"May I have your autograph?"

"Only if you don't plan on using it to steal my soul."

"Oh, heavens, my plan has been discovered."

You find a table and scribble out your signature with the Sharpie she's provided.

"Not like I've got a soul to be stolen, anyway."

"Ah, yes, you're now a sellout.  How's it feel?"

"Rich."

"I thought as much."

She gracefully captchalogues both the print and the Sharpie, before giving you an expectant look.

"What?  Do I have something on my shades?"

She smiles and shakes her head.

"No.  Not at all.  Just remembering."

Well, that's not creepy.

"Remembering what?"

"The reason why John Crocker is funny, why Jade English is intriguing, and why neither of those names sound as right as John Egbert and Jade Harley."

Something inside you lurches and shifts.

You're not sure where it settles, but you feel like it's really important that you don't let this moment go.

That you don't let HER go.

But you are terrified beyond belief, and this woman is so many things you don't understand.

You don't like that even a little bit.

"No offense, but you aren't making a lick of sense, and I've got better things to do than listen to crazy authors all day."

"No offense taken."

She walks away.

Which gets under your skin more than if she'd gotten offended or yelled at you.

Your whole day is ruined.

When you sleep that night, you have terrifying dreams.

Burning planets covered in lava and gears.

Monsters with the wings of a bird, the head of a dog, and a sword through the chest.

Alien children with candycorn horns.

And her.

Standing with you before a bomb.

Trying to make you apple juice with magic and science combined into one.

Hitting you in the head with a ball of yarn in a purple room while a creepy puppet sits nearby.

She means a lot to you in your dreams, and when you awaken, you can't quite remember why.


End file.
